No More Learning

_Thyr. _ None of these; but out, alas!
A mischance is come to pass,
And I'll tell thee what it was:
See, mine eyes are weeping-ripe.

_Lacon. _ Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe.

_Thyr. _ I have lost my lovely steer,
That to me was far more dear
Than these kine which I milk here:
Broad of forehead, large of eye,
Party-colour'd like a pie;
Smooth in each limb as a die;
Clear of hoof, and clear of horn:
Sharply pointed as a thorn,
With a neck by yoke unworn;
From the which hung down by strings,
Balls of cowslips, daisy rings,
Interplac'd with ribbonings:
Faultless every way for shape;
Not a straw could him escape;
Ever gamesome as an ape,
But yet harmless as a sheep.
Pardon, Lacon, if I weep;
_Tears will spring where woes are deep_.
Now, ay me! ay me! Last night
Came a mad dog and did bite,
Aye, and kill'd my dear delight.

_Lacon. _ Alack, for grief!

_Thyr. _ But I'll be brief.
Hence I must, for time doth call
Me, and my sad playmates all,
To his ev'ning funeral.
Live long, Lacon, so adieu!

_Lacon. _ Mournful maid, farewell to you;
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.

_Pie_, _i. e. _, a magpie.


985. UPON SAPPHO.

Look upon Sappho's lip, and you will swear
There is a love-like leaven rising there.


988. A BACCHANALIAN VERSE.

Drink up
Your cup,
But not spill wine;
For if you
Do,
'Tis an ill sign;

That we
Foresee
You are cloy'd here,
If so, no
Ho,
But avoid here.


989. CARE A GOOD KEEPER.

_Care keeps the conquest; 'tis no less renown
To keep a city than to win a town.